


Ask Me No Questions

by Ursula



Category: White Collar
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursula/pseuds/Ursula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme Prompt: Neal/Peter/Elizabeth. Non-con (I prefer just the attempt, can be off screen) by an OMC on Neal. He was going to submit to protect Peter and Elizabeth. They love him for it. Bonus points if Neal cries and Peter calls him "My boy". I used Ruiz instead of an OMC</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask Me No Questions

Title: Ask Me No Questions   
Author: Ursula  
Rating: rating: R  
Genre and/or Pairing: Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke.

Notes: Written for White Collar Kink Meme again. Prompt was for an OMC, but I used Ruiz. Here's the request: Neal/Peter/Elizabeth. Non-con (I prefer just the attempt, can be off screen) by an OMC on Neal. He was going to submit to protect Peter and Elizabeth. They love him for it. Bonus points if Neal cries and Peter calls him "My boy". I am going for the bonus points as I already fudged by making the bad guy, Ruiz.

Warnings: Neal is nearly raped.

Spoilers: Book of Hours  
Warnings: Slash and non con sexual harassment of Neal  
Word Count:   
Summary: Peter is out of town and Ruiz blackmails Neal for sex, threatening to reveal a three way sexual relationship between Neal, Elizabeth, and Peter that does not (as yet) exist.

Give Jones a hand. Clinton Jones may not have a starring role, but I give him some props here.

OooOooO

 

The FBI building was all windows. It was an architectural whim Neal supposed, but it struck him as being paranoid. He didn't know how people could stand it. To Neal, it was too much like prison where eyes were constantly on you.

Distracted by his own thoughts, Neal went back over the report he was reading and confirmed the glimmer in his mind. Yes, the accountant should have caught the glaring deficit sooner. He dug through the stack of files to see what the man's personal finances looked like. Ah, yes. Ah ha. The man's bank account looked clean, but there was a sister in law who spent most of her time at his house. Neal made a call to Pablo Munoz in records to order the sister in law's financial records. He expected to have an answer soon. It was not brilliance, Neal understood. It was time to read, to comb through the documents when there were usually more interesting and pressing matters.

Ruiz poked his head into Peter's office. Glancing at the man, Neal said, "Peter's not here. He's consulting on another case in Baltimore."

"I know," Ruiz said.

There was something about the way he said it that made Neal nervous. Ruiz said, "I asked Hughes if I could borrow you. There's something about one of my cases."

It made Neal nervous. He knew Ruiz constantly complained about him being here.

"Come on," Ruiz said.

The tracker imposed obedience and Neal was responsive to authority anyway. He had spent most of his youth in academic situations where he might rebel outside, but followed conventions inside. He followed Ruiz down to the basement to the room where old files were kept. He startled as he heard the click of the door locking behind Ruiz.

Ruiz said, "I know what's going on between you and the Burkes."

"What?" Neal asked. "There's nothing going on between us. They are friends. El liked to feed me and Peter likes to keep an eye on me."

Which was true to date. Not that Neal didn't have hopes of making that outdated information.

"Yeah, right, I see how Burke is with you. Don't know how long it's been going on but I want some of what you give him," Ruiz said.

Wordlessly, Ruiz pinned Neal to the wall, his kiss filthy and brutal, his hands tearing at Neal's zipper. Neal pushed the man away forcibly and maneuvered for the locked door.

Ruiz said, "I got pictures. I got records."

It was insane. Neal knew that nothing had happened.

Grabbing Neal roughly again, Ruiz was all over him, tongue slithering repulsively, half choking him, hand inserted into the back of Neal's trousers, feeling his ass beneath his briefs.

Neal's senses heightened by fear and loathing caught the rattling door. He turned his face away from Ruiz's kiss and said, "Someone's at the door."

The pounding in the door echoed the pounding in Neal's heart. "Caffrey? Neal, you in there? Hey, Peter wants you to find something in his office that I can't find! Hey, man, Sally said you and Ruiz came down here. Come on, man! You better not be taking a nap in there!"

Ruiz snarled, shoved away from Neal and pointed to a box of files on the floor. "Go act like you're digging through that and don't say a word if you don't want Agent Burke compromised."

Neal obeyed, bruising his knees he went down on the floor so hard. He pulled out files, red faced with fury. How dare Ruiz! How dare him!

The physical indignity was bad enough. There had been some near misses in prison that freaked Neal out. It was not that it was another man groping him. Before Kate, he had as many boyfriends as girl friends. He was even serious about a couple of his romances with other men, both of the relationships with older guys. That did not make what had just happened any better. It was his body, damn it. His right to say yes or no.

Ruiz shouted, "Hang on. The door jammed on us. "

"Oh, yeah, man, it's always doing that," Jones said.

"I told Caffrey not to shut it. Does he listen?" Ruiz said.

A moment later, Jones was in the doorway. Neal jetted up, squeezed out the door, past Jones and said, "Come on. What is it Peter needs?"

"Easy, man," Jones said, "Peter's not that mad yet. What did Ruiz want with you?"

The hell of it was that Neal almost told him on the spot. Instead, Neal said, "It was nothing. He just wanted to see me scrabbling through those dusty old files."

"Asshole," Jones said, patting Neal on his arm. "Don't sweat it. Peter will be back soon and Ruiz doesn't mess with him."

"What is it with Ruiz and Peter?" Neal said. "Why does he have such a case about Peter?"

"Hughes favors Peter. He let Ruiz's position stay vacant for two months when the last guy retired while he tried to talk Peter into taking it. Ruiz was like third choice. There was another guy in another office who didn't want to transfer in."

"Must have played hell on Ruiz's ego," Neal said. He understood the angle of striking at Peter through Neal, but why the sexual aspect? As far as Neal had heard, Ruiz was an office stalker, always on the prowl to the point that some of the female clerks wouldn't go up into his office without a witness.

Upstairs, Neal quickly found the Mallory report that Peter needed and volunteered to run it to the couriers. He wanted as far from Ruiz as he could.

 

OooOooO

Neal spent the next two days avoiding Ruiz, hoping Peter would be back soon. As he waited outside the bureau for a cab, Ruiz pulled up and gestured for Neal to get in the car. Neal shook his head, looking around but no one he knew was around. He started to back toward the door of the bureau building, but Ruiz looked savage in his anger. He held something up and Neal recognized a picture with Peter in it. Reluctantly, Neal walked toward the car and entered.

Ruiz drove away, creating a wave of water that swamped a passerby, a tall woman who shook an angry fist after Ruiz.

"Rude," Neal said.

"You're always flaunting your finishing school manners at people," Ruiz said. "You're nothing but a whore and that's how I'm going to use you."

"Ruiz, you are out of your mind!" Neal said. "What would you get out of it? What fun is there forcing someone into your bed? If you want a date, maybe I can find you someone."

"I want you," Ruiz said. "I want what Peter Burke has. I want what he takes from me. I work as hard as he does. I'm as smart. I went to college too. Why the fuck does Hughes think the sun shines for him? No, you belong to Peter Burke, but I'm going to use you. I'm going to make you feel so dirty you won't ever be able to look that bitch, Elizabeth Burke, in the eye."

Neal knew that Ruiz was mis-wired, but this was insane. Ruiz said, "Look at the pictures, pretty boy."

Who the crap wrote the guy's dialog? Neal has noticed before that Ruiz talked like a bad gangster's movie. When Neal stopped raving to himself, he looked at the pictures.

They were all innocent enough. Peter and Neal walking on their way to lunch, Peter's hand hovering toward Neal's back. Yes, Peter had a habit of touching Neal, but it wasn't sexual, was it? It was...Neal had noticed it from the first week he worked with Peter. At first, he resented it, thinking that Peter acted as if he was still in custody and he had to keep a hand on him. Later, noticing that Peter was the same way with El, Neal was pleased by the way Peter always seemed to have a hand hovering over him. Peter was a possessive guy and Neal found he liked being coveted and protected. Somehow he didn't twig that anyone else would notice.

The picture at the open market with El was just an innocent kiss. Neal had found the perfect center piece for a Rat Pack theme party and El had laid a kiss on him. It meant nothing or perhaps it meant more to Neal than it did to El. El was the most loving wife. What would she want with Neal, who was a convicted felon, someone who could not even keep his girl friend safe or happy?

There were others. Peter leaning across the desk, eyes intent on Neal. They were just talking about a case. Really. It just looked...different in the picture, like Peter was asserting ownership of Neal, as if he couldn't break his gaze away from Neal's face.

There was the one that was caught on a day when El came to take Peter and Neal to lunch. It was a beautiful warm day and Neal was happy. Peter and he had just solved a case so Peter was momentarily content with life. El had Peter safe so she was delighted. Peter had his arm in El's. She took Neal's in hers. Elizabeth's face was turned toward Neal with such a look of affection that Neal wondered how he could miss it except that he was leaning across her to point his finger at Peter, grinning at his partner in what even he had to admit looked like flirtation.

"None of these are proof of anything," Neal said.

"Here's your tracker's records," Ruiz said. "You were there all night five times in the last two months."

"I was working most of the night with Peter," Neal said. "Twice. Once I was sick and El said I should stay in the guest room. The fourth time was June having a family reunion and needing my room. The fifth time...well, I don't remember why I stayed that time, but it wasn't because I was sleeping with them."

"Yeah, yeah," Ruiz said. "Everyone knows Peter Burke has a thing for you. You want Hughes to look at what I got? You value your comfort that much? It isn't like you'd be doing anything you haven't done before."

"Please, please," Neal begged. "Don't. Don't make me."

"You have a couple days to think about it," Ruiz said. "Then you better be at my place, ready to do every damn thing I say. Peter Burke thinks he owns you. I will own you."

OooOooO

The next morning, copies of the pictures were sitting on the desk Neal was using in the bullpen. He gazed at the top one, the picture of Peter and him at Peter's desk, stricken, until Jones' voice behind him said, "Nice picture of Peter and you. Kind of sweet." Jones looked around and said, "Hope the boss never hears me say that."

"What's wrong with you?" Jones asked. "You haven't been yourself for two days."

"Maybe I'm tired of being myself, tired of the jokes about my leash, tired of people waiting for me to steal the stapler off their desk," Neal said. He shoved the picture and the ones with it into his desk, jumped up, ignoring Jones' startled expression, and almost ran out of the office.

When Neal returned with a coffee to cover his absence, Ruiz walked by, looked Neal up and down with an air of ownership. He tapped his wristwatch, leaned over Neal's desk and whispered, "Got those fur lined handcuffs for you. Don't want Burke to see any marks on you that he didn't make."

Neal wasn't a violent man, but he wanted to leap across his desk and slam his delicate, valuable artist's hands into Ruiz's face. The idea of having this man touch him much less to submit to his rutting on him repulsed him. Neal looked up and saw Jones watching from Peter's office. He was too far away to hear anything and it was too early for most people to be in, but Jones looked as if he was turning something over in his mind.

OooOooO

Neal worked hard through the morning, entering data on his dreaded mortgage fraud cases. He intended to work through lunch, but suddenly Jones and Cruz were hovering over him. Neal looked up at them with suspicion. He said, "What? I'm working. I haven't taken a break since this morning and that was only a quick coffee run."

"We know," Jones said. "You missed lunch yesterday and the day before. Peter will kill us if he comes back and you've blown away in the wind like Mary Poppins."

"We're taking you to lunch," Cruz said, "and we're not asking. Come."

Neal opened his mouth to argue and Jones handed him his coat, taking Neal's arm firmly. It felt so much like the way Peter handled him that Neal found himself slipping into instant obedience.

Worried, Neal glanced toward Ruiz' office and Jones followed his gaze, nodding to Lauren Cruz as if confirming the conclusion to a case file.

Neal was conveyed to Jones' favorite Chinese restaurant to be stuffed with dumplings. Away from Cruz, Neal felt better and was able to eat the first real meal he was able to enjoy since Peter left.

Dessert however involved Jones and Cruz double teaming him.

"What is Ruiz doing to you?" Cruz said directly.

"I know he's up to something," Jones said. "Guy gives me the creeps."

"He hasn't been right since he was kidnapped last year," Cruz pointed out.

"Kidnapped?" Neal repeated.

"Yes, he was on a case and he went missing for three days," Cruz said. "Turned up tied up in a warehouse, pretty beat up. Never went into details but I guess it was a rough few days."

Neal's wheels turned in his head. He thought he knew why Ruiz was acting the way he did. He said, "Did he have a psychiatric review."

"He passed it," Cruz said.

"How do you know all of this?" Neal asked. "You're the probie."

"I know because Jones knows. Clinton did some investigating after this morning," Cruz said. "I know Hughes isn't entirely happy with Peter's trust in you, but he would rein Ruiz in."

"Yeah, Hughes doesn't care for bullies," Jones said, reaching across the table to pat Neal on the arm.

Neal wanted to ask for help. He was touched that his team mates were so willing to help him, but Ruiz met with Hughes every day. It was hard to believe that Hughes would believe Neal over a department head like Ruiz. He would have to solve this his own way. Run, cut the tracker and run quickly while Peter was out of town or submit.

And he knew he couldn't run. Not without hurting Peter and El.

OooOooO

The next morning Peter was back, cheerful, smug from having solved the case in Baltimore. He breezed into Neal's apartment unannounced, finding Neal about to pour gin into his coffee. Peter said, "Since when do you drink your breakfast?"

"Peter, it was just going to be a small shot of courage," Neal said. He had decided during the night to get it over, let Ruiz fuck him. Let him do whatever he wanted to do. He had decided, but that didn't mean it was an easy thing with which to live. It made him feel sick as if he had already been violated. He was not a macho guy. He didn't even like the concept. It wasn't healthy or remotely attractive in his opinion. That didn't mean Neal didn't have a concept about himself as a man, which didn't include letting himself be molested by some crazy asshole.

"Why do you need a shot of courage?" Peter asked. "Jones said something about Ruiz harassing you. Tell me about it, Neal. I'll have a talk with him."

"Jones should mind his own business," Neal said. "Ruiz was just talking to me. There was no drama, no problem I can't handle."

That inverted line appeared on Peter's forehead. His eyes focused on Neal intently as if he could read his mind. "Come here," Peter said.

"I am here," Neal said, but Peter had his hand on Neal's arm, drawing him up. Neal, as if hypnotized, follows him up.

"Now, tell me," Peter said. "Did you do something? Is there a reason why Ruiz is on your ass?"

The spell was broken. Neal shook himself free and said, "Yeah, I worked nine hours a day while you were gone. I think I broke the Baldwin case for you and wrote a report that even Hughes can't bitch about. I've faced guns, been shoved around, threatened, and coerced since the day I started working with you. And you are still taking Ruiz's side over mine. I get it. I really get it so lay off unless maybe you want to shove me around a little because you can do that, can't you? I'm anyone's meat at the FBI. It's worse than prison. Worse."

Peter's mouth gaped open and his eyes went from suspicious to concerned. "Neal? Look, I'm sorry. Tell me what's wrong."

"I want to go back," Neal said. "I'll serve my sentence. Tell Hughes I want to go back. Today. Send me back right now."

OooOooO

 

OooOooO

"No," Peter said.

No negotiating. No questions. Just 'No'.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Neal demanded. "It's an agreement. You threaten to end it all the time, send me back. So I'm calling it. I am tired of all the bullshit and I don't even care about finding Kate anymore, which is the only reason I made the agreement in the first place."

The sad thing as Neal made the last statement; he realized it was true. Not so much as Kate being the only reason he made the agreement. It was so nearly the truth that Kate was a perfect illusion whereas Peter and Elizabeth were real and solid, loving and imperfect. He stopped being able to hold onto Kate, even when he held that damn empty bottle in his hand, but El and Peter were increasingly there, always offering Neal something that was full, not empty. Neal drew a shaky breath and Peter had him in his arms.

"Whatever it is," Peter said. "I can fix it. Just tell me."

"Ask me no questions," Neal said.

Peter nodded, knowing the reference. "I will find out, Neal. I will take care of it. I will take care of you."

"Don't," Neal said. "This isn't something you can fix. You really should send me back."

"You want to break El's heart? You know she cares about you. You know she loves you," Peter said.

Oh, it hurt. Neal could hear everything Peter was saying between the words he spoke aloud. He understood when Peter was saying El that he meant he also loved Neal. He also would have a broken heart if Neal did this.

Shaking his head, Neal gave up. He could get through it. Surely Ruiz would be bored with him soon, especially if he stopped fighting him. He would go to Ruiz, let him do his worst, and he would live with it.

"Okay, Peter, have it your way," Neal said, escaping Peter's hug.

"Neal, just let me help," Peter said.

"No, this is something I have to do on my own," Neal said. "It's not breaking the law. It's not a heist. It's not a con. It's not even about Kate. It's a personal problem."

"It must be a serious one if you felt that going back to prison was an out," Peter said.

"I knew you wouldn't take me up on that," Neal said. He knew that now. "Let's get to work. I want to show you what I found out on the Baldwin case. I think we barked up the wrong tree. It was Allen Murray, not Baldwin."

"The accountant again? Damn, I was hoping it would be the butler for once," Peter said.

Neal was grateful for the chance to hide behind normalcy and banter. He would have one more day of being the person he was. If he went to Ruiz tonight...when he went to Ruiz tonight, tomorrow he would be different. Neal knew that.

OooOooO

"I have a ride home, Peter," Neal assured. "Thanks for letting me go home early."

"You sure you don't want me to drive you if you're sick," Peter said. "Who is taking you?"

"Sandra," Neal said, naming one of the research assistants, an older woman who was very motherly to him. He knew Peter would approve of that. "She noticed I wasn't feeling well and you know how she is. She wants to make me chicken soup and put a cool cloth on my forehead. Come on. It's me or another cat."

Peter laughed and said, "Go on. You are such a con man!"

Jones was standing in the doorway. Neal nearly ran into him. He had seen Jones talking to Peter, but Jones didn't know anything or he couldn't have known what was really going on.

"Hey, man," Jones said, "Take it easy. You okay? You look sick."

"I am sick. Going home early," Neal said.

"Well, stay away; I don't want to catch it," Jones said.

Relieved at having fooled everyone, Neal turned slowly at the base of the stairs to remind himself of what he was salvaging. He was surprised to find both Peter and Jones staring back at him.

They didn't follow him though. Neal drew a breath and walked to the elevator that led to the underground parking garage. Ruiz would be waiting. Hell would be waiting.

OooOooO

No magic had whisked Ruiz from the garage. He looked at Neal with a sickening grin and said, "You shaking, Caffrey? I thought you were a tough guy, cool and collected."

The worst thing was that Neal really was shaking. It was one thing to be facing danger. Hold up an antique book like it was a real shield. Trust a table to stop high powered bullets. Jump off a four story building. Leap out of a moving speed boat onto another one. Run out of oxygen in a private, air tight vault and wake up with Moz breathing garlic into his mouth. Neal would trade all of these things even if they happened in a row or even all at once rather than let Ruiz touch him. It was not a choice. The car started. They were going.

Ruiz didn't live in Neal's two mile radius, but Neal passed his apartment when he went to Peter's house. His anklet was programmed to allow him to go to Peter's as long as he used the most straight forward route. Neal needed to watch taxi drivers to make sure they didn't deviate from his path for any reason. Now he wished there was a detour, a long, long one that would cause his tracker to alert. It didn't happen.

The apartment was okay. Nothing personal except a cluster of those candles in the garish Virgin Mary glass painted holders. Neal started at those for a while as Ruiz poured himself a drink. "You want something?" Ruiz asked. "I have wine. You drink wine, right?"

The temptation was to say yes. To say yes to a lot of drinks, but Neal still hoped to talk Ruiz out of this. He had to keep his head.

Shaking his head, Neal took a deep shuddering breath. "Ruiz, you can still stop. I wouldn't tell anyone."

"They don't stop when you ask," Ruiz said. "They don't stop when you cuss them out or beg. That's the way it is."

Neal jumped on that. "Ruiz, you need help. Whatever happened to you, you need to deal with it. I know the bureau has doctors or if you don't want anyone to know, I could find you someone. I have an old friend who works with trauma. Let me help."

Ruiz put down his drink. He slammed Neal against the wall and snarled, "I know what will help. Take off those fancy clothes. Now!"

Neal knew there were times when words failed. He knew this was one of them. He felt sad for himself. For Peter and Elizabeth because he knew he would feel too besmirched to want to see them after this. He did not know how he would live with this, but he guessed he would. He had endured prison, hadn't he?

"Give me some space," Neal asked Ruiz. "Unless you want to take my clothes off me yourself."

"I..." Ruiz's fingers twitched, but he said, "No, you do it. Strip for me."

Neal's mind was working. Ruiz wasn't sure that he wanted this. He wanted Neal's terror and repulsion. Like most rapists, it wasn't just sex he wanted. He wanted the power over his victim. Neal steeled himself. There was one way, maybe, to stop this from happening. He unbuckled his belt, stepped out of his shoes. He pulled off his socks and tucked them neatly into his shoes as if it mattered.

"You could have just asked, you know," Neal said. "You're not a bad looking guy. Pretty sharp really."

"Shut the fuck up," Ruiz said, "No more of your lying bull shit. I'm a smart guy. You say one thing, but you're breathing fast and it's not like you're turned on by me. You're all tensed up. I like that. It's going to hurt when I stick it to you. I bet you'll bleed. I'm going to love this."

So much for deflection and psychological delays. Goodbye to feeling in control. Neal wondered if he would survive this and still feel like himself. He undressed precisely, slipping the knot from his tie, taking care with his buttons, folding his shirt as if by doing so he could hold onto the Neal Caffrey that took such care of his clothing and body, that was very picky about whom he slept with although he flirted freely, that was not trapped in a situation where he was going to lose something of himself or everything for Peter.

Ruiz growled, pushed Neal against the wall again, ripping down his trousers, ravening at Neal's lips, hands bruising him, fingernails gouging, biting his neck and his shoulder, not playfully as a lover, but deep and hard enough to hurt.

"Scream," Ruiz said, taking his tongue out of Neal's mouth. "Cry for Peter. Cry for him. Yell for help. They won't come. They never come to help."

Ruiz spat on Neal as he dragged him by his hand through a door. His bed was stripped to the sheets. The handcuffs he talked about were hooked to the mattress frame. Neal saw lube and thankfully, condoms at the bed table. He wondered if Ruiz would even take the time to prepare him. All that in the instant that it took to push Neal on the bed and fasten the cuffs.

As Ruiz stripped, Neal tried to find a place in his mind where he could wall himself away and get through this. To his disappointment, disassociation was not in his repertoire. Neal tried to keep his mouth shut when Ruiz settled on the bed, between Neal's legs, erection wet against Neal's cringing flesh. Despite his willing himself to keep quiet, when Ruiz reached for the lube, Neal could not keep from a hopeless "Peter. Help me, Peter."

Neal would forever believe in magic from that point because there was a burst of sound and Ruiz scrambled away from him. It took a moment for Neal to realize that Ruiz was going for his gun. Wrenching at the stupid porn store handcuffs until they broke, Neal tackled Ruiz and wrestled for the gun. He knew it was foolish and risky, but he had to protect Peter. Neal succeeded in pinning Ruiz until Peter was in the room, picking Neal off the rogue FBI agent.

Everyone was shouting. Jones, Cruz, Hughes. Jones was trying his best to get Peter off Ruiz, but Peter was about ten feet tall and maybe his skin was green because no one would like him when he was this angry.

Because Neal thought he could do it and it was the right thing to do, Neal grabbed Peter's arms and yelled, "If you kill him who will save me the next time!"

Ah, it worked. Neal didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed that Peter let Ruiz drop to the ground where Jones grabbed him up. Neal saw Lauren Cruz accidentally stepped on Ruiz's hand two times while he was still on the ground; she was wearing business heels that were still fairly sharp and smiled the second time she tromped on him.

Hughes looked totally distressed. "Burke, get Caffrey to ER for a forensic exam."

"I'm okay," Neal said. "You got here on time. Peter, let me go. I want my clothes."

Jones collected them for Neal and said, "Buddy, you could have told me. You didn't think I'd figure it out, but I did, didn't I?"

Neal realized he had vastly underestimated Jones, both his deductive skills and his friendship.

Peter pointed at Lauren and said, "Agent Cruz, I realize this is the new FBI, but I think Neal would prefer to show less skin in your presence."

"Sorry, Neal, we have to get some pictures," Jones said.

"Just a minute," Peter said, inclining his head toward the door. Everyone, even Hughes took the hint.

Neal shook. He grabbed a double handful of Peter's coat, pressed his body tight against Peter and his head into Peter's shoulder and let loose. Peter didn't handle crying well, but made no attempt to stop Neal. He patted Neal's back and said, "Shhh, let it out. Let it out, my boy, let it out."

Oh, at some point, when Neal was all stuffed back into his own skin and not scattered in sharp pieces all over the place, he would get Peter for calling him his boy. Not now. Now, Neal sobbed until the tears stopped on their own and then he let go of Peter. He went into Ruiz's bathroom to wash his face; Peter following.

"He bit your shoulder and neck," Peter said. "We're going to need to record that."

"Do I have to press charges?" Neal asked. "He was...Peter, why didn't anyone help him when it happened?"

"What happened?" Peter said.

"He was raped," Neal said. "Last year when he was missing for three days, they raped him."

"He never said anything," Peter said. Shaking his head, Peter said, "It's no excuse. None at all. Yes, you have to press charges and it doesn't matter because we all saw this. We would have to do it for you if you refused."

Jones rapped on the door and Peter said, "Come in."

Waving a camera, Jones said, "I have to take some pictures."

Jones quickly took the pictures of Neal's injuries and, as the camera recorded them, it seemed that every bruise, every gouge, every strained muscle hurt worse. "That's it," Jones said. "I just need to get the crime scene."

"Okay," Neal said, hastily dressing.

"We have to talk," Peter said, helping Neal on with his coat. "About how this happened. Why you came here with Ruiz."

"Not here," Neal said.

When Peter reached for a blanket from the bench at the foot of Ruiz's bed, Neal said, "No, nothing from here. Nothing. As soon as I can, I am going to burn everything I'm wearing. I want to forget this. "

Peter took his own coat off to wrap Neal in. Ruiz was dressed, crying and holding onto Hughes when they went into the living room. Hughes had a peculiar expression of pity and disgust on his face. As Peter and Neal passed by, Hughes said, "Peter, when they're done with Caffrey at the emergency room, bring him back to that wife of yours for some TLC. I have enough to explain when they ask me why one of my agents attacked another. I do not need to have another incident which points to my lack of sensitivity to my employees." Hughes had enough of Ruiz and shoved the man at Cruz. "Get him in cuffs and arrange a psychiatric consult for him. You know how to do that."

Cruz said, "Yes, sir."

As Peter guided Neal out, his arm around his waist, Neal heard Hughes mutter, "Oh, god, OPR. OPR is going to play hell with this."

In the elevator, Neal perked up as he replayed Hughes' comments in his head. "Hey, Peter, Hughes called me his agent and one of his employees. How cool is that?"

Peter managed a smile and said, "Why the surprise? You are a charmer as well you know."

"Yeah," Neal said, "Maybe I don't want to charm everyone anymore."

Silence reigned until they reached Peter's car. When they were safely inside, Neal stuffed back more tears. The car felt like home. There was the note pad, the pens, the bottle of water that Peter always had, the evidence gloves and the little packages of antiseptic wipes for wiping your hands off when you ended up touching something you regretted. There was a forgotten paper bag from Peter's pastrami sandwich last week. Lined up on the dashboard were a row of tiny cranes that Neal had made waiting for Peter to finish talking to another agent in the field. It had been two weeks ago and it was a scarily nice feeling to see that Peter had kept them.

"Spill," Peter said. "I saw the pictures you had in your desk and, yes, I admit that they look hinky."

"He had readouts of all the times I stayed at your house," Neal confessed.

"Yes, yes, so you stay at our house," Peter said.

"And El kisses me. You put your hand on my back and around my shoulders. I hold hands with El," Neal said.

Peter sighed and nearly ran into the back of the car in front of them despite the Taurus's brave attempts to save him. When the beeping stopped sounding like it was scolding Peter, Peter puffed air out of his cheeks and said, "Neal, we... you know El and I care about you."

"I'd do anything for you," Neal swore.

"Yes, you proved that," Peter said, sounding unbearably sad. "You don't know how much it grieves me that you think that you have to do something like that to spare El and I some gossip. We can handle the talk and there is talk, Neal. There is always talk, but we can handle it. I would rather quit my job and work at Wal-Mart as night security rather than have you be hurt or lose you."

"I shouldn't spend so much time with you," Neal said. He winced at the thought. His life would be so bleak without them. He would still have Moz and June, but what he had with El and Peter was different.

"Bullshit," Peter said. "Ruiz may be nuts, but he's right about what is going to happen between the three of us. At least, if you want us, Neal."

Neal's brain skipped a track. He had to reply what he just heard. "You want me? As in?"

Peter smiled the way he did when he won the game they seemed to be always playing between them. He said, "As in."

"Oh," Neal said, "The answer then being yes." An honest impulse made Neal add, "But not right away. Because. It's not going to be easy."

"No rush," Peter said.

Okay. Neal pulled Peter's coat around him tighter. Okay.

"You going to have to tell El what happened? Nearly happened?"

Peter made a turn without signaling. Peter needed him just to back seat drive. The man was a menace.

"Neal, you know how I am with El. I can't lie to her. I try, but I...you know I fail miserably at it," Peter said, as if confessing his sins.

"It's adorable," Neal said.

"That's what she says," Peter said, giving Neal a warm smile and patting his leg.

On the other hand, Neal could imagine Peter and Elizabeth as a pretty good cure for trauma.

OooOooO

Peter stuck with Neal through most of the horrors of the exam until it was time for the rectal exam.

"I could stay if you want," Peter offered, looking pale already.

"Or we could both leave," Neal suggested.

"Neal, better the doctor than Hughes. I swear he would do it," Peter claimed.

"Okay," Neal said. "I won't make you stay."

"El should be here soon," Peter said. "I had her pack an overnight bag from June's."

"That was very kind of hers," Neal said.

"I won't be far," Peter said. "It's just..."

"You might pass out from anxiety," Neal said.

OooOooO

When they were done with the poking, the blood draws, the ultra violet scan that grossly enough did detect a trace of semen on Neal's leg, to the careful photography of the bite wounds and swabbing for saliva, Neal was allowed to dress in the clothing El brought him.

"Oh, honey," El said, opening her arms to Neal.

El's embrace was a safe harbor. Neal didn't weep again, but he wanted to stay there, wanted what El gave him. She didn't let him go, not on the walk back to the car nor once they entered Peter's Taurus. She sat in the back seat with Neal and Neal let her guide him down to pillow his head on her. She smelled like vanilla and flowers, the way she always did. Her hand stroked through his hair and Neal felt guilty, knowing that if it was Kate, he would have had to be strong for her. Not so with El, who was the strongest of the three of them. El was fearless in her ability to love. She didn't worry that Neal might betray them because in her eyes, he never would and she made it true as Neal could never even imagine hurting her. El didn't care what people thought. She had accepted Neal from the start and she refused to doubt him even when Peter justifiably did.

"I love you," Neal said. "I love you, El."

"I know and I know you love Peter too," El said.

OooOooO

There was one stop for prescriptions, antibiotics and a mild sedative that Neal decided he would not argue about taking.

"Do you want to sleep with us tonight or in the guest bed?" El asked.

It made Neal feel uneasy. He wanted to be held. He wanted the safety, but if they wanted more, he knew he wasn't capable.

"Neal, to sleep," Peter said. "Just to help you sleep."

That sounded nice.

Soon the sedative was soothing him down and Peter was on one side of him and El on the other.

"There is one thing, Neal Caffrey," El said.

"Yes, El?" Neal said.

"If you ever try to sacrifice yourself for anything short of my life or Peter's, you will answer to me. You can ask Peter if that's a good thing, answering to me."

Peter was shaking his head and his eyes looked shaded with remembered panic. So definitely not a good thing. Beware the wrath of El.

"I won't, El," Neal said.

El reached for him and Neal followed into her embrace, his head fuzzy in a good way and the trauma slippery enough to let go of, at least for the night. The hard edges of the world were fuzzy from good drugs and he was warm in the bed, which was definitely too small for three, but felt pretty comfortable anyway. Peter shifted closer, his good strong arms around both of them.

And Neal felt something he might never have really known before.

Neal Caffrey had come home.

The end


End file.
